《美食祈祷和恋爱》Chapter 21 (42):享受意大利大纲

The amount of pleasure this eating and speaking brought to me was inestimable, and yet so simple. I passed a few hours once in the middle of October that might look like nothing much to the outside observer, but which I will always count amongst the happiest of my life. I found a market near my apartment, only a few streets over from me, which I'd somehow never noticed before. There I approached a tiny vegetable stall with one Italian woman and her son selling a choice assortment of their produce—such as rich, almost algae-green leaves of spinach, tomatoes so red and bloody they looked like a cow's organs, and champagne-colored grapes with skins as tight as a showgirl's leotard.

这样的饮食与说话带给我至高无上却又简单朴素的快乐。我在十月中旬度过的几个小时，对旁观者来说或许没啥大不了，但我始终认为是自己生命中最愉快的时期。我在公寓附近发现一个市场，仅几条街之远，我先前不曾注意到它。我走近有个意大利妇女的小蔬菜摊，她和她儿子贩卖各式各样的产品——像是叶片丰润、绿藻色的菠菜，血红有如动物器官的番茄，外皮紧绷的香槟色葡萄。

I selected a bunch of thin, bright asparagus. I was able to ask the woman, in comfortable Italian, if I could possibly just take half this asparagus home? There was only one of me, I explained to her—I didn't need much. She promptly took the asparagus from my hands and halved it. I asked her if I could find this market every day in the same place, and she said, yes, she was here every day, from 7:00 AM. Then her son, who was very cute, gave me a sly look and said, "Well, she tries to be here at seven . . ." We all laughed. This whole conversation was conducted in Italian—a language I could not speak a word of only a few months earlier.

我挑了一捆细长鲜艳的芦笋。我轻松地用意大利语问这位妇女，能不能带半捆芦笋回家？我向她说明，我只有一个人，分量无需太多。她立即从我手中拿过芦笋，分成两半。我问她每天能否在老地方找到市场？她说，是的，她每天都在这里，从早上七点开始。而后她俊俏的儿子表情诡秘地说：“这个嘛，她尽量想在七点来这里……”我们全笑了。 整段谈话以意大利语进行。才几个月前，这语言我还无法讲半个字呢。

I walked home to my apartment and soft-boiled a pair of fresh brown eggs for my lunch. I peeled the eggs and arranged them on a plate beside the seven stalks of the asparagus (which were so slim and snappy they didn't need to be cooked at all). I put some olives on the plate, too, and the four knobs of goat cheese I'd picked up yesterday from the formaggeria down the street, and two slices of pink, oily salmon. For dessert—a lovely peach, which the woman at the market had given to me for free and which was still warm from the Roman sunlight. For the longest time I couldn't even touch this food because it was such a masterpiece of lunch, a true expression of the art of making something out of nothing. Finally, when I had fully absorbed the prettiness of my meal, I went and sat in a patch of sunbeam on my clean wooden floor and ate every bite of it, with my fingers, while reading my daily newspaper article in Italian. Happiness inhabited my every molecule.

我走回公寓，把两个蛋煮嫩吃午餐。我剥了蛋壳，排放在盘子上，摆在七条芦笋旁边（它们又细又美，根本无须烹煮）。我还在盘子里放了几颗橄榄，以及昨天在路上的乳酪铺买来的四小团羊乳酪，还有两片粉红油嫩的鲑鱼。饭后点心是一颗漂亮的桃子，是那位市场妇女免费送我的：桃子晒了罗马的阳光，余温犹存。好长一段时间，我甚至无法碰这餐饭，因为这顿午餐像是大师杰作，真正表现了无中生有的艺术。最后，充分享受菜肴之美色后，我在干净的木头地板上一块阳光中坐下，用手指头吃掉每一口菜，一面阅读每日的意大利语报纸。幸福进驻我的每个毛细孔中。

Until—as often happened during those first months of travel, whenever I would feel such happiness—my guilt alarm went off. I heard my ex-husband's voice speaking disdainfully in my ear: So this is what you gave up everything for? This is why you gutted our entire life together? For a few stalks of asparagus and an Italian newspaper?

直到——如同头几个月的旅行期间，每当我感觉到此种幸福时，经常发生的那样——我的罪恶感警报便响起。我听见前夫的声音在我耳边不屑地说： 所以，你放弃一切就为了这个？这就是你把我们的共同生活一手摧毁的理由？为了几条芦笋和一份意大利语报纸？

I replied aloud to him. "First of all," I said, "I'm very sorry, but this isn't your business anymore. And secondly, to answer your question . . . yes."

Eat, Pray, Love

我高声回复他：“首先，我很抱歉，这已不干你的事。其次，让我回答你的问题……没错！”